Remedial Remedies
by L56895
Summary: What could have happened in the timeline where Abed fetched the pizza.


_"You just... reminded me of my dad!"_

Jeff could have punched a wall in that moment.

The night continued in the same bitter tone once the pizza arrived. Shirley and Britta had glared quietly at one another from across the table; Pierce and Troy occasionally spitting barbed jabs in the other's direction while Abed acted oblivious. For his part Jeff tried to keep the peace, at least as long as Annie wasn't looking at him, but the evening was soured.

She kept glancing at him, he could feel her eyes burning in to his cheeks- but then he always could when she looked his way- but he stubbornly refused to look back at her. Not while the twisted pain in his gut refused to go away. As the evening wore on it lessened slightly, but it never quite disappeared.

Britta's slinking off to the bathroom to get more high was far less subtle than she presumably imagined and eventually Shirley slammed her bag on the table, said a curt goodbye, and stormed out. Pierce took his chance to leave behind her and then there were only four of them left around the table.

"I'm sorry we ruined your house warming," Annie said finally, her voice small. This time when she looked at him he returned her gaze, offered her a small smile and nodded in agreement.

"It's okay guys," Troy shrugged, "I'd say we should call it a night but Annie, isn't Britta your ride?"

Annie cast a concerned glance at the bathroom hallway, where Britta's mewl- like singing could be heard, and sighed.

"Guess I'm getting a cab, can she stay here?"

Jeff shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Angry as he was with her- and if he was honest with himself he wasn't nearly as angry with her as he was with himself for the incident in the kitchen earlier- the idea of her going out in to the night on her own wasn't one he relished.

"I'll share the cab." She whipped round to look at him and he gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile, although how do you reassure someone about the same thing you're in turmoil about? "I don't want you alone this late in your neighbourhood, Annie."

"Jeff, I'll be fine. I've lived there over two years. Besides, your apartment is in the complete wrong direction! You'd have to go back on yourself," she insisted, but her tone wasn't as forceful as he expected.

"It's fine." He stood, donned his jacket and stalked out the front door.

The cab ride to her apartment was spent in silence, neither one of them keen on breaking the delicate truce they'd navigated themselves in to. Her apartment wasn't far enough to be considered a major detour- the earlier protest had only been half right- and it wasn't long before they were pulling up outside her building. Out in the gloom Jeff was distracted by a movement amongst the cars and he gripped her wrist before she could open the cab door.

"Annie, there's a man out there. I don't like this."

"Oh that's just Spaghetti! He's harmless," she replied breezily, but Jeff shook his head.

"No, I'm walking you up. Can you keep the meter running?" He leaned round to the cab driver who raised his eyebrow.

"Man, that guy's pissing on all the cars! No way I'm hanging about."

"Fine." Jeff pushed the cab door open and fished in his wallet for enough to cover the fare. "Come on Annie."

"Jeff!"

* * *

Her apartment was basically one room and the only place he had to sit was on the edge of her bed. Without any clear idea of where the situation was headed he perched awkwardly while she pottered about the kitchenette. She was muttering apologies for the state of the place- almost to herself- although every bit of clutter screamed Annie and made him smile. Experimentally, he stretched back out on the bed, propped up on his elbows, and watched as she filled a glass with something sweet and sticky looking. It was a little too comfortable, but she didn't even raise an eyebrow when she flopped down next to him and passed him the glass.

"This is the only drink I have," she said quickly, waving a hand distractedly, "It's vodka but it's… it's bubblegum flavoured."

A blush crept up her cheeks and down her neck and for a moment he was distracted by the way her chest looked hot and flushed. At eye-line level, he was pretty sure her cleavage would be the death of him some day, but he raised the glass to his lips and found the sugary drink strangely appealing. She clutched her own in a flowery tumbler, fingers tight around it and legs tucked primly underneath her, and when she took a sip her hands shook.

"Annie... I'm sorry."

As soon as the words left his lips her body seemed to sag and relax next to him and it was his turn for deja vu; an overwhelming sense of affection, lips close enough to touch if only one of them would make the move. Earlier on the move had been mutual- a meeting in the middle- but then he'd thrown some sort of power imbalance in her face and now all he could do was wait. Then, she slouched and looked away and he felt a little jolt in his stomach.

"No, I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking!" When she looked back at him her eyes were big and shining and he repressed the urge to touch her, to run the pads of his fingertips along her cheeks. "I guess I'm just not good at this."

"Annie, I don't even know what _this_ is any more."

She unfurled her legs and shifted on the bed so that she was curled up on her side, head propped up on her hand. Even with that damn lipgloss the urge to kiss her again was unbearable and he fixated on her lips until she spoke.

"You know what I mean," she murmured, and he flicked his gaze back to her eyes guiltily, "W _anting_ someone this much." She tipped her chin, her parted lips even more magnetic than before.

Spiralling. That was the word for it. Things were spiralling out of control. And he wanted not to care, to get swept up in the moment and give in to desire, except that this was Annie and sex with her would mean never turning back. Being in love with her was more complicated than he could ever imagine. She filled a void, but being greedy could mean losing her and he wasn't sure what else could would ever fit in that space inside him.

He was pretty sure he didn't have any condoms in his wallet, which took away some of the temptation, but knowing Annie she'd have a permanently safe sex drawer stocked up. An image of limbs tangled in the bed- of sweat and moans and slick thrusts- filled his head and he shifted uncomfortably just as she pushed forward to kiss him. Within seconds his reservations were flung aside and he was on her, rolling her on to her back and pawing at her like a man possessed. Their earlier kiss had been quiet, tender and soft, but this time he drank her in like a dying man as she stretched out underneath him and moaned.

When she took a breath he pulled back, took the opportunity to slip her cardigan off her shoulders and pressed kisses down her bare skin. She made little purrs of pleasure when he reached her neck and nipped gently with his teeth, wrapped her legs around his waist and pushed down with her heels. He bucked his hips in response, thrusted down in to the mattress and gripped her harder. Predictably, he considered that having his lips on her might be his new favourite thing, but he wrestled with the thought and won.

"We can't… do this," he moaned between kisses, but he slipped his hands up underneath her dress to squeeze her ass, "Bad idea. Annie!"

"Jeff, it's okay. I'm ready!"

He sighed and pushed himself up on to his elbows, ignoring her little plaintive cry and the way her dress was slipping down her breasts. Her expression had that familiar doe-eyed look that made him melt and he sighed and pressed his forehead to hers.

"I'm not," he murmured, felt her gasp slightly against his lips "I'm not ready to acknowledge how I feel about you and, let's face it, sex would be a pretty big acknowledgement."

"I didn't think sex was such a big deal for you."

"It's not… you are. And I don't even have the right words to tell you how I feel about you."

"So then show me," her voice came out barely more than a breath and he made a sort of guttural sound against her cheek, "Show me what I mean to you."

When he thought about it later he realised that it would be one of those defining moments of life that would stick with him. Annie propped up on her elbows in imitation of his earlier position on the bed; back arched and leg slung over his shoulder as he kissed his way along her thighs. She giggled when his beard brushed against her skin and he felt giddy; the room was too hot, made hotter by her burning skin under his palms, but he'd resolved to keep his shirt buttoned. The whole thing felt safer with his clothes on, although his jeans felt suddenly way too tight and he covertly loosened his fly with the hand that wasn't rubbing circles against her hip.

What he'd tried to tell her earlier, that he was hopelessly in love with her, clearly hadn't resonated. So he tried to let her know again; with his lips and his tongue and fingers brushing the fabric of her underwear aside. Her own fingers tangled in his hair with an assertiveness that was all her- although he'd never before imagined that assertiveness transferred to the bedroom- and he was buoyed by her encouragement. Every move he made elicited a response from her and he felt drunk with power as her hips rolled against the mattress.

She came like she did everything- with high pitched enthusiasm- and the sound and taste of her took his breath away. When he sat back on his haunches she pushed herself up and kissed him, slipped off the bed and in to his lap so that they were tangled up on the floor. The movement made his jeans fall lower around his hips and then he was pushing up in to her, shaking with need. For a moment he was gripped by the embarrassing possibility that he might come there and then, with her thighs squeezing his hips and his clothes almost completely intact, but then her body shifted and so did the mood. He slipped his hands from her hips and ran them up her back, pulled her close and cradled her against him. The awkwardness that had terrified him, that urge to get up and leave and never look back failed to appear and she was his Annie again- small and highly strung and gentle in his arms. She was running soft kisses down his neck as he held her and he sank in to the feeling until an ache in his back forced him to shift positions.

"Annie, it's late…" he started, and she cleared her throat and pushed herself up on to her knees.

"I get it, you should go," she said softly, not meeting his gaze as she rearranged her clothes. He stilled her by pulling her tight against him again.

"Actually, I was thinking it's getting pretty late and we should probably go to sleep." He jerked his head in the direction of her bed. "Is there room for me if I have it on good authority that I don't snore?"

He cut off her laugh with another kiss.


End file.
